The Bathroom
by taylorsita
Summary: Emmett gets locked in his and Rose's bathroom after saying something disrespectful to girls.


**This was honestly and seriously written in ten minutes. The idea just came to me. Review? You'll get some...hair-care products.  
:)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, Emmett Cullen, Rosalie Hale or bathrooms around the world.****

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**Emmett Cullen:**

"Rose, how come girls spend so much time in the bathroom?" I asked Rosalie one day while she was getting ready to go to the grocery store.

"I'm not sure. Maybe because there's mirrors in here," she suggested, staring back at herself in the a long mirror leaning up against the wall.

"Mirrors? For God's sakes, there's mirrors all around this house. Why's it _this _room that girls are so attracted to? Seriously...It's not that fun," I pointed out. Rosalie digested what I said and made a disgusted face.

"What do you mean, it's not that fun?" she wondered; the look on her face didn't look very happy with me. I knew it was time to go back downstairs.

"Okay...I think I'm just going to leave you to your necessities." I quickly stood up from the stool I had halfly sat on and started out the door. Rosalie pulled me by my t-shirt and yanked me to a sitting position on the side of the bathtub.

"Answer me," she demanded.

My eyes were wide with fear. Fear from my wife. "Um, guys don't like to gaze at themselves for hours at a time. We don't think we're that pretty. But you are...?" I stated, making my sentence a question.

"Good answer," Rosalie complimented me, but her face went back to angry. "How about I let you stay in here for a while. You know, let you glare at yourself in the face. See how fun it is."

"Glare? I didn't say glare..."

"I know." She smirked, and then waltzed out of the room like she just thought of the brightest idea ever. But, truly, I knew she wasn't that smart. I walked over to the bathroom door, AKA, the only way out unless I'd like to jump out of the window, and gripped the knob. The doorknob wouldn't turn all the way. I grabbed it with two hands, still yanking the knob to one side, then to the other. Nothing happened.

I was sure that after a while, my super-vampire strengh would kick in.

It didn't. I was stuck in the bathroom, yanking on the knob for about ten minutes, until I gave up, too annoyed to continue. The bathroom mirror, what Rosalie was all hung up about, looked very inviting right now. I walked over to it and gazed into my deep, deep blue eyes. I never noticed how pretty they really were.

Then I stopped staring, reminding myself that Edward was hearing what I'm thinking, and he would most likely be telling Rosalie just about everything. That would be something I wouldn't ever be able to live through.

I started getting a little anxious, a little curious, too, even. I picked up what I thought was hairspray and squirted some foam sludge all over my hand. I read the bottle. It said:

"Extra-Strength Curl Solution"

Rosalie used curl product to make her hair that bouncy?

Un. Believable. How could she trick people, including me, like that? It wasn't fair. But, getting more curious, I wiped the curl foam onto the top of my head. I started to rub it through my hair, covering every little strand of my chocolate brown locks with Extra-Strength Curl Solution. I started reading more of the bottle:

"Step one: Shake bottle."

Well, _crap. _I missed the first step. I read on:

"Step two: Rub Curl Solution into hair, tilting head to one side."

I tilted my head to the right, following the pictures on the bottle.

"Step three: Cradle curls by shaping them with your fingers. Keep your head to one side."

Still following the pictures, I cradled the curls, while still keeping my head to the side.

"Step four: Blow dry hair if wet, and spray Extra-Strength Hairspray over hair to keep curls in place."

I searched Rosalie's make-up catastrophe, reading all the labels, then finally finding one that said 'Extra-Strength Hairspray' on it with the same purple-ish colored bottle.

While smashing the can with my finger, I sprayed the hairspray all over my head.

But the worst of the worst happened while the hairspray can was still in my left hand, my right shaping the curls.

Rosalie had walked in with a video camera, the rest of the family following behind her, snapping pictures of my hair-care experience. They all got their few belly-laughs in when they saw how innocent my face looked.

"Hey, hon," Rosalie greeted me with the camera on facing upwards towards my hair. "Whatcha doing?"

"Um...Um...," I stuttered.

"Are you using my hair-care products, Emmett?" she asked me like she was talking to a five-year-old who had just messed around with his mom's lipstick.

I just nodded. That was all I could do. Obviously, I couldn't defend myself. 'No, Rose. I'm just seeing if it's radioactive'. Now I knew she was smarter than that.

"I think you might want to correct yourself from about a half an hour ago. Is the bathroom fun?" she inquired, the camera still pointed at my

head.

I sighed. "Yes, Rosalie," I said in a monotone.

Correction; I was never going to live through _this._


End file.
